


(living) in a piece of ever after

by post_tenebras_lux



Category: Descendants (Disney Movies), Disney - All Media Types, Disney RPF, Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon), Tangled (2010)
Genre: And by help everyone wants to matchmake, And everyone kinda wants to make it better, Audrey just has a lot of feelings, Audrey!Whump, Ben and Audrey Friendship, Depression, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Follows the events of D3, Forgiveness, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Jealous!Ben, Jealousy, M/M, Mama Uma Approves, Multi, Recovery, Slow Burn, Teen Angst, Uma and Audrey Friendship, all of the feels, this is very self indulgent tbh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-04
Updated: 2019-09-28
Packaged: 2020-10-10 02:21:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 18,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20520365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/post_tenebras_lux/pseuds/post_tenebras_lux
Summary: There was a time when Audrey was one of his best friends. A time when Ben could honestly go to her for anything and know that she'd always be there for him. But too much time has passed since then; they have dated, they have fallen apart, he has hurt her, and now every step they take towards reconciliation aches just as fiercely as her descent into darkness had. So, when a mutual blast from the past returns to Auradon, Ben knows that he should feel elated. He does, just as he also feels something uncomfortable rankling just below the joy he has at seeing one of his best friends in the whole wide world again - something he can't name when he sees said friend staring at Audrey like he had what feels like a lifetime ago.





	1. BEN I

**Author's Note:**

> Don't get me wrong - I think it's all cute and dandy that the barrier is down and the kids are all getting the possibility of happy endings cuz guess what? No matter what the VK's parents did, at the end of the day, the babies deserve their happy ending. But if you think that I don't also have an incessant need to see Audrey be loved and not vilified, you gonna learn today lol.

Ben is ninety percent sure that Hades wouldn't _actually_ harm him. It's not like Ben has done anything, really, to warrant the sneers and side eyes, and Mal says that everyone is liable to be on the receiving end of the God of the Underworld's sharp looks. Even though – and Ben didn't tell _her_ this because his fiancée was beaming and bright and happy and Ben's a goddamn sap when she looks like that – Ben hasn't seen _anyone else_ get daggers glared into them the second they even glance in the direction of the father when his daughter is under his arm.

Okay, so maybe Ben is only eighty percent sure Hades won't harm him. That's a fair number and he doesn't think Hades is willing to make too much of a scene, not when the barrier has just been taken down and residents of the Isle are still getting to know the residents of Auradon. Besides, Ben will take what he can get and eighty's a high enough number to be satisfied with when he's supposed to be celebrating his engagement party.

Ben also just knows that he'll be avoiding his future father-in-law as much as he possibly can for the next few days.

And okay, so maybe this is the _second_ engagement party. Evie had insisted that the first one didn't count because it was all overshadowed by Mal announcing that she wanted the barrier to be destroyed, so they had to do it all again. Ben just thinks it was an excuse to design Mal more dresses, but when he'd muttered that – thinking no one had heard him – he'd had Evie, Mal, and even _Audrey_ glaring at him fiercely and kicking him out of the cottage. Here they all are though, at this second party and this time, in the ballroom because Ms. Potts and Lumiere refused to not show off.

"There you are," a familiar, silky voice calls from over his shoulder and, with one of his hands still braced on the balcony railing as he overlooks the turnout – the smiling faces, the wary yet interested eyes, the dancing, the cornucopia of decadent foods Mal has told him time and again the children of the Isle have sadly never been exposed to – Ben turns just in time to have Mal plaster herself to his back, slender arms wrapped around his waist as she peers down over his shoulder. A smile immediately touches his lips.

Ben wonders still if Mal knows that she has him under a spell, that she had had him under one the moment he had peered into her gimlet green eyes, long before she ever cast the real spell that propelled their story. That all she'd have to do is look at him, that signature quirk in her kissably soft lips, and he'd be like putty in her hands. He wonders if she knows how much power she really has over him.

He doubts it, though sometimes she gives him a look and he's so sure she knows he'd do literally anything she'd ask. And that she _revels_ in it, even though that's not always apparent in front of everyone else. But then she'll go uncharacteristically shy because Ben's been stuck on stupid while just staring at her, and Ben knows she doesn't know for if she did, she'd understand that she's not the one who should be ducking their head, face all red from embarrassment.

Now that he thinks about it, maybe it's for the best Mal _hasn't_ caught on just yet. He doesn't think he'd survive the reprecussions.

"I was wondering where you went," Mal follows up and Ben is helpless to do anything but turn even more to her so that he can wrap his free arm around her shoulders, pulling his fiancée – and he's so sure that he's not going to get used to _that_ any time soon – even closer.

He knows he must look at least a little pathetic, given the quasi-judgmental look Uma had tossed him when he'd followed Mal with his gaze earlier during their entire conversation, but Ben can't find it in him to care. And if Mal has any contention with his abundance of affection, the only sign she gives is the light chuckle that escapes her followed by the teasing "such a puppy" she likes to throw in every now and then since the beast-beard situation. And he thinks that's less derision and more fondness, anyway.

"Just making my rounds, checked in on my parents," Ben answers against her hair and he can feel Mal's eyes on him before he even glances down at the violet-haired girl. Her green gaze is fixed on him in that knowing way that never fails to send a shiver down his spine and Ben feels like she's seeing more than he's even let on, so he continues on, off-handledly, "Dad's still not….exactly happy about Hades being over here, which ya know…it's gonna take time since it's literally been a couple weeks since we let down the – "

"He's gonna be here, Ben." The statement is simple and it's ridiculous how much Ben needs to hear it, but hears it he does and his body relaxes even more so in her arms.

Ben has attended Auradon Prep practically all of his life and while his popularity has been undeniable and has garnered him a plethora of royals and sons and daughters of dignitaries who would call themselves his friends – and Ben's not a jerk, he genuinely does consider at least half of them his friends – the most dearest and oldest of said friends had always been Audrey. Well, Audrey _and_ Robb.

Robert Fitzherbert is the eldest son of Queen Rapunzel and King Eugene Fitzherbert of Corona. He'd left a few months before Ben could officially welcome the first batch of VKs to Auradon, having been unable to miss his parents' coronation as the new king and queen of their nation. It hadn't been a seamless transition as his grandparents had just died and Robb had been especially close to his maternal grandmother.

But when the pair had passed in their sleep, hands still clasped and bodies cuddled into one another as if it were just another night, Robb had immediately returned home to help his grieving parents and younger sisters. The separation had stung, Robb's departure so soon after Adam announced his decision to place the crown upon Ben's head earlier than anticipated. At the time, though, Audrey had softened the blow by being the most helpful Lady of the Court he could ask for.

(It stings now to remember how quickly she'd fallen from that position, how he'd _let _her fall. Ben doesn't like to think about it at all, if he's being honest.).

With everything that has happened within the last three years, it hasn't been easy keeping in touch as regularly as they had in the years prior. They talk at least once a week, sure, and there are occasional Skype sessions. But the one thing Ben has always appreciated about his friendship with Robb is that distance means nothing. No matter how long they've gone without seeing one another, all it takes is one text – or, in this instance, a response to his IG story of Mal wearing the engagement ring resplendent with mocking heart emojis and jeers – and they're back in each other's back pockets like nothing has changed. _Proximity doesn't matter either_, his brain asserts and Ben can't help but glimpse Audrey.

It's been two weeks since the last engagement party and though they've managed to make conversation in a group setting, and Ben's still just a little wrecked at how much he's fucking _missed_ Audrey _smiling_ at him, they're still not okay. Audrey tenses when he nears her. Audrey's smiles are too tight, too cordial to mean anything once her eyes land on him. Ben doesn't know – for the life of him – how to engage in any discussion about anything without feeling like he'll wind up insulting her.

The girl he once was able to gather under one arm and unload about the day to, or the one who takes care of those random meetings and socials Ben seriously forgets about like an absolute pro with not even a wrinkle on her taffeta blouse nor a hint of exhaustion in her big brown eyes, the one who can be found with dustings of flour on her hair and cheeks at the most random of times despite her insistence on keeping her appearance in absolute perfection, the one he's always been able to count on – _that_ girl does not exist anymore.

Or, more accurately, she doesn't exist – for him – anymore.

And that _hurts_, especially when he sees the beautiful princess flash a brilliant smile at Uma as the two girls giggle in the corner. They're surprisingly becoming fast friends and Ben likes it, he really does – he absolutely loves seeing the two girls be genuinely happy and carefree – but there's a twinge of discomfort from deep in his gut, this slow burn that churls away at him from deep inside that he doesn't want to name.

That he doesn't have the _right_ to name.

"I know," Ben hears himself say, even as his eyes remain trained on Audrey whose smile becomes thin, strained yet polite in the face of a visiting royal. Ben doesn't need to go over there.

_She's fine_, he tells himself even though he feels like striding down the steps and over to his…well, Ben doesn't know what he's supposed to call her now – what he's allowed to call her. Because there are moments where she'll soften if he sits across from her at lunch and it'll feel like before, long before they dated and she was one person he knew he'd go to the ends of the earth for and that the feeling was mutual. And then he'll speak to her and he doesn't remember what he's said to warrant the reaction, but he sees her close off long before the icy yet kind words leave her careful tongue. Ben feels his frown deepen.

The point is that Ben knows. Audrey has always been one of the most composed people he's ever known, and she can handle herself in public, and through anything. Even now, when there are some who whisper even in her face, knowing that she sees them all – and it fills Ben with an outrage that has him squeezing Mal's hip too tightly, but she doesn't complain and Ben doesn't know how he has managed to deserve her but he'll take it – and Audrey does not flinch. She is a princess of Auroria and she does not cower in the face of others. In fact, she towers, head held high and grace in her every step like she is above every person her eye just so happens to land upon and their judgement – even with her diminutive frame.

Audrey has made her rounds all evening, honey coating her words just as surely as the nude gloss that covers her lips and impenetrable determination in her wise eyes. She wears a lace and tulle ball gown with a corseted waistline and short, capped sleeves and a full skirt that sweeps the marble floors just as elegantly as she sweeps through the ballroom. Embellished in pink, the haute confection dips quite low in the back beneath clear mesh that is surprising for her and the conservative notions of her grandmother, but Audrey doesn't seem to notice Queen Leah's surprise with the way she beams beneath the chandelier lights, the gorgeous songbird appliqués shimmering just as brightly as the feathery drop earrings her updo shows off. But Ben _knows._

He knows how taxing it's been to have everyone know the extent to which she'd been eager to go to in her pain – it's been taxing for him, too. Defending her, reminding everyone that he's just as guilty for the fallout as she was. That no one was really harmed in Audrey's descent into darkness and that though there is to be a general upset since no one likes spells being cast on them, she doesn't deserve any derision.

It doesn't mean that it's an easy process.

Shaking himself from the glower he knows is plastered on his face now, and seeing Mal watch it all, Ben smiles down at her, giving his fiancée a quick peck on the lips. "I know, I'm just…anxious. It feels like a long time since Robbie's been here and with everything that's happened recently, I just…" He doesn't finish, but it also doesn't feel like he needs to. Mal hums in acknowledgement and Ben knows she's gearing to reply, but before she can, another voice breaks in.

"Awww, I knew you missed me, Bennyboo!" Ben's grin is wide when he turns around.

Robb is taller now, taller than Ben, which means he's got to be standing at least six feet to beat out Ben's five foot ten. Robb's always been broader in the shoulders, though, which is more pronounced in the floral print jacquard dinner jacket he wears, the white of his shirt peeking out beneath the outerwear and the bowtie Robb neatly wears. It's all very immaculate and far more luxurious than Ben knows Robb likes, but as heir to Corona, Robb's appearance means so much more than it had before when he was simply a prince. Eugene's color typical color scheme fits, though, the turquoise and cream along with the gold of their family seal reminding everyone – including Robb himself, since he's liable to forget – of his royal heritage.

Even if the shit-eating grin on the taller boy's face is far from royal.

"Don't call me…" The words lack the bite Ben normally possesses for anyone who uses that nickname and isn't a significant other, and he doesn't even finish the statement before he's laughing and launching himself at his friend. Robb claps his back with a fond chuckle, pulling back only to ruffle his hair, knocking Ben's crown off because he's an asshole like that. "Such a jerk," he says as he fixes it back in place.

"And yet you missed me, princess," Robb retorts.

"Just barely." Ben hears Mal snort from behind him and remembers himself. Taking a step back, he extends an arm which Mal takes, the demigoddess casting him a rather amused glance before turning those emerald eyes Robb's way. "Anyway, now that you're officially face to face, Robb, this is my fiancée, Mal."

Robb, the ass that he is, takes a long time to assess – no, _ogle_ Mal and Ben scowls at him, rolling his eyes at his friend's audacity. Robb only cracks a grin once he's met Mal's gaze, eyes flickering to Ben only after the two have exchanged a look that makes Ben fear for his future. Perhaps he should have never been eager to have these two meet; he doesn't feel safe.

"An introduction that only took you about two years to make," Robb accuses lightly and Ben rolls his eyes once more. Robb doesn't catch it, though, because his attention is back on Mal as he adds, conspiratorially, "It's only 'cause he's nervous I'd steal his girl. I'm kinda known for being a magnet. It's always been intimidating for Benny." Ben chokes on a derisive laugh and Mal quirks an eyebrow.

"Funny," Mal says. "Even after two Skype sessions and finally looking at you up close…I'm still not that impressed." Robb's jaw drops and Ben snorts out a light laugh. Robb's shock doesn't last long, if it was real at all because his eyes are alight with pleasure. His lips are stretched wide, straight white teeth and dimples on display.

"Oh, I like her," he tells Ben. Mal chuckles, leaning into his side more.

"It's nice to finally, officially meet you, Robb. Ben's been so excited since you told him you were coming."

"Been a long time coming." Ben smiles, filled with warmth.

"Yes, it has." He gestures to the stairs as he says, "Come on, Mom and Dad'll be really happy to see you and I can't wait to introduce you to everyone."

Ben should have known it wouldn't take long. It honestly should not have even surprised him. When he thinks about it, it was the first thing that should have crossed his mind from the second Robb had snuck into the ballroom, eager to skip out on any formal announcement of his presence. Robb has always disliked the entire process and he's sure that the boy dislikes the royal progresses he has to participate in even more now that his parents are officially king and queen than he had had to before.

But they're barely three seconds from having taken that last step away from the cascading staircase before there's a sharp squeal of pure joy that Ben hasn't heard in two years. Then there's the sound of heels click-clacking their way across the floor and then a blur of pink mesh passes by him.

And then Audrey's feet are off the floor and she's clinging to Robb like he's a lifeline she's gone too long without and he's holding her to himself like the feeling is mutual.

In another life, Ben grins and laughs even, molding himself to the pair and squeezing them both like they used to do when they were children until Audrey screams out that she's being squished. Ben and Robb never listened before, so they'd squeeze her even tighter until she's giggling despite herself, breathless yet indignant and wriggling to get away so that she can compose herself once more. In another life, she flips her hair and storms away while muttering about too rough boys, but not too far before Robb is dragging him behind her, fondness squeezing his heart to the point of unbearable.

In another life – in a life that should be this one, where there is no distance between himself and Audrey and he can teasingly opine how he doesn't think that it's very princess-like to just throw herself at people and how her grandmother would not approve of such ill manners – Ben's smile doesn't thin. No one catches it, he doesn't think so. He doesn't think anyone ever has caught such a reaction from him in the face of two of the most important people in his world reuniting publicly for the first time in close to three years. But thin his smile does – and he feels it happening, knows it's happened once or twice before in the past even though he's kept that truth to himself, and hates himself for it just as much as he hated himself in the past – and Ben wishes it didn't.

And he wishes that burn he feels in his stomach – the uncomfortable clawing sensation that wreaks havoc on his conscience, that inconvenience he only feels when Audrey comfortably talks to Uma and Harry and Jane, and even _Mal_ for goodness sake but never him – wasn't here either.


	2. AUDREY I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Audrey's not jealous of Mal and Ben....well, not in the way everyone else assumes.

Audrey is not in control.

She heard the whispers years ago, the sudden insurgence of unlicensed psychologists in the throng of students that line the hallways of Auradon Prep as they all diagnosed her as a neurotic control freak. None were bold enough to say it to her face, though, but they said it. Mind, they said it _after_ they enjoyed her parties and socials. They said it _after_ they ate her cakes and gushed over her newest bracelet. They said it _after_ they fawned over her mother's name, over her inherited beauty. They said it _after_ she'd find herself under Ben's arm, shielded by his mere presence, perhaps, but – _clearly_ – not by his affection. Still, they said it. And, despite the trickle of displeasure down her spine even as she kept it ramrod straight and her head held high, Audrey never denied it. She likes control. She likes things going her way and she likes being _in charge_ of things going her way.

Things are not going her way.

Logically, she knows that no one is going to forget what she's done overnight. She has spelled an entire people and turned a good number of them into stone. She would have done more had she not been stopped. Granted – and she knows it's bitterness, and not grace and sophistication and humility surrounding her thoughts – she remembers that everyone seemingly forgot that Mal and her gang had not initially come to Auradon with good intentions, that everyone pretends like Mal didn't poison their king.

In all honesty, Audrey doesn't hate Mal. It was a thought that occurred to her after Mal made herself quite comfortable in the kitchen as Audrey baked, plucking up one of the thin, sticky-sweet lemon slices she was going to use on her lemoncakes and nibbling on it as she pestered Audrey about letting Evie design her a dress. Mal is as annoying and invasive as Uma. She watches more than Audrey feels comfortable with her watching and she's always doing something, like when she snuck alcohol into the dorms and got a miniature party going only for Ms. Potts to shut it down. And Audrey does not hate her.

Perhaps, she doesn't like her, not all the way, not fully. But Audrey feels like she's moving towards it. At the same time, Audrey has not forgotten that Mal became an overnight sensation for shoving her tongue down the same throat she poured a love potion in.

_Fine_, she thinks grudgingly. There was no pouring, more like a baked treat that was scarfed down. But the point remains that she's not the one everyone peeks at over shoulders and whispers about like Audrey can't see their fucking mouths and pointed fingers and accusing eyes.

"A princess does not think negative thoughts, Audrey," Grammy would say. "You must always govern yourself, not just in appearance but in thoughts as well. Thoughts become actions, my dear, and sometimes, one cannot take back their actions for actions leave impressions." Audrey has left one hell of an impression now and even though she's smart enough – has enough self-preservation to note that she can't be held entirely responsible for having been influenced by the scepter – none of it takes away from the fact that Grammy can't answer her one question:

_Then, how do I not think at all?_

Because all Audrey has are negative thoughts now and she can't, for the life of her, stop.

Grammy wouldn't have an answer to that, not one Audrey would like. In fact, Audrey doesn't think Grammy quite knows what to say to her now. Grammy knows scathing hints of concern and scolding pieces of advice. Grammy knows how to pick apart each and every one of Audrey's insecurities, and how to lay them out on the table in front of her and demand that she make them all go away if they happen to be an inconvenience to Grammy's plans for Audrey's future. Grammy knows how to be the only physically present adult in her life, but she does not know what comfort truly means – not anymore. And it makes Grammy uncomfortable and Audrey cannot make it better. She can't make anything better.

Audrey cannot forget the fear in Chad's eyes as she sends him hurtling into the closet and locks the door as he bangs helplessly – futilely – against it, knowing how small, enclosed spaces terrify him. Audrey cannot forget Celia's whimper as she digs her nails into the younger girl's dark brown skin, yanking the younger girl to her person and using her as a mock-shield in her final battle with Mal. Audrey cannot make her classmates like her anymore, not with cookies or cupcakes or honeyed words, or even her family name.

She also cannot erase the memories of being awoken and seeing that glimmer of disappointment in Grammy's eyes when she peers down at her still prone form, the sight of it overshadowed by the guilt that forms in those chocolate orbs later when Mal and Ben acknowledge that she had been deserving of an apology.

(And they didn't apologize, not really, not then. No matter what anyone says.).

(Mal has apologized, which is why Audrey knows she does not hate her.).

Audrey cannot do anything. She is not in control and she cannot stand it.

But princesses don't think negative thoughts. Princesses do not bake for classmates who peer at her with more wariness in their eyes than they ever had even on her bad days, in an attempt to remind them that they loved her once.

(Did _anyone_ ever really love her, then?)

Princesses do not take longer walks in their solitude, the saddest of songs in their hearts and on their tongues, and surrounding themselves only with the songbirds that tweet just as morosely as she does, the tiny creatures her only companions despite having a surprising number of humans – pirates and fashionistas and sea witches and shit-stirrers and demigoddesses/dragons/fairies – willing to keep her company. Princesses don't shudder when they catch a glimpse of the museum nor avoid towers.

Princesses do not go the other way, if they can help it, when they see kings who are just trying to be friendly, even though they do not have to be. Princesses do not avoid their mother's calls nor do they leave their fathers on read when he's just trying to remind her that he's there for her, even though Audrey has doubted that numerous times in her seventeen years of living. They don't spend more nights wide awake, staring at the ceiling and wondering why Mal didn't just finish her off while she had the chance like Audrey does – wondering if princesses are even _allowed_ to think the black nothingness of death more welcoming than the orange-pink-gold of the morning light.

There's a diamond-encrusted tiara atop Audrey's pink-and-blue-pastel-streaked pale curls, however, and Audrey dons more of her mother's colors than she ever has the elder princess' attention. And perhaps she's not worthy of being a princess; she most certainly wasn't deemed worthy to be anyone's queen or girlfriend or friend or daughter, if we're all being honest – _princesses are not bitter_, she tells herself, even though it's hard to shut that voice off completely – but she is one just as much as she's her mother's offspring.

(She clung to being Sleeping Beauty's daughter once, _reveled_ in it, even. So why does it no longer mean anything to her now?)

She wonders what it says about her that she's also wondered if she was ever even worthy of her mother's love, seeing as how she's more familiar with the woman's absence than this new surge of attention.

But a princess – no, not just a princess but _Audrey_ – is not allowed to think such thoughts. So, Audrey brings the champagne flute that's supposed to be filled with sparkling flavored water and pretends like she always has. Even though – and Grammy would appalled if she knew the truth – it's vodka, not that disgusting water, that finds its way down her throat.

* * *

"Okay, bitch," Uma begins and Audrey blinks. A second later and her nose wrinkles with displeasure at the sea witch's crude language, but Uma carries on as if she doesn't notice it even though Audrey knows that she does, "your ass is literally sadder than all that goddamn pink you got goin' on."

Audrey knows that she is right. Even if Audrey is doing her very best to put the past behind her, as much as one can put the past behind them when the past was _literally_ a couple of weeks ago, she is not surprised that Uma sees past her frozen smiles and kind platitudes.

How Uma sees more than people she's spent literally her entire life with is beyond Audrey, but she…well, she doesn't think she likes it. It's annoying, being called out and Uma knows that, but she does it anyway and Audrey wishes she could muster up the energy to be a lot more dismissive but she can't. It's pathetic, how much she likes having someone care.

So, she settles on bitchy.

"Sorry, I don't dress fish," she replies and Uma snorts.

"Fuck you."

"Language," she chides the turquoise-haired beauty, bringing her flute back to her lips and tipping it to her mouth before realizing that she's already polished the glass off, cursing her eagerness for the burn her throat was slowly getting used to. Uma had Harry sneak the liquid temptation into the ballroom despite Ben and Mal warning them to be on their best behavior. Lowering the glass, she adds, jesting, "What do you want them all to think Auradon's king allowed into their midst, hmm? Savages?"

A VK that has not taken the time to know Audrey would probably take offense to that. They would more than likely be ready to fight, if not jot her down as at least one AK they won't be interacting with in the future. There have been a few who have already done the latter, though they still seem to be surprised when they see Uma plop herself down on the thin blanket Audrey will cover the grass with so she can sit and sketch, the sea witch seemingly incapable of not pulling Audrey along to do something other than "look like a sad piece of bubblegum – c'mon, who really wears all that pink? You don't got no other color in your closet!?"

"Bitch," Uma growls. Audrey only smiles primly, handing her glass to an attendant the second one passes by her.

Audrey is still surprised that Uma has lasted this long in Evie's black tulle creation. It's a lightweight, backless gown with thin straps and a plunging neckline that compliments Uma's slender, spoon-shaped frame. She also knows that if it were any heavier, Uma would've thrown the whole thing in the trash. There is golden embroidery all over, tiny crabs and seashells that shine brightly from the tops of the girl's shoulders all the way to the bottom of the sweeping skirts. Even Uma's hair is done, tiny golden or black skulls and starfishes interspersed between turquoise box braids Audrey herself had a hand in. The hemline only barely grazes the tops of Uma's strappy heels, heels Audrey knows the sea witch will rid herself of before the night is over. Overall, Uma is a vision beneath golden lights that illuminate the majesty in her nut-brown skin, a surprising about of grace in the sensual air that surrounds her.

And why she's decided to stick around Audrey is beyond the pink princess.

(Also, Uma wants to think that all of this dressing up is frivolous and that she's above it all, but Audrey saw her when they finally got her in front of a mirror. She was positively _glowing_ after seeing herself so done up and Audrey has no problem with rubbing her face in it.).

"Aaaaaaaaaanyway," Uma drags out, arms folded over her chest as she peers over at Audrey, "as I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted…" Audrey scoffs, incapable of not cutting in.

"You weren't even interrupted – you _literally_ paused – "

"…and insulted…"

"You've only been calling me a bitch because I snatched my diary back from you when you invited yourself into my room – _unannounced_, mind you – after already reading it. _Twice_." Audrey reminds her. Uma just bulldozes over her rebuttals as if they aren't there.

"…what's it gonna take for you to not look so goddamn miserable?" Uma finally asks and Audrey frowns, looking away from the other girl. "Girly, you're making _me_ depressed." Audrey rolls her eyes.

"You can always leave," she sneers. Uma snorts.

"And leave you to your woe-some? Puh-lease! I'm literally the best thing that's ever happened to you." Uma insists and Audrey snorts gracelessly, only mildly grateful that Grammy is literally seated on the other side of the ballroom and cannot hear such an unprincess-like sound.

"Is that what helps you sleep at night?"

"Actually, good dick helps me sleep at night," Uma corrects her. Bright spots of pink touch the tops of Audrey's cheeks at the other girl's audacity, leaving her wide-eyed and gaping. But it's difficult for Audrey not to try to get something in, edge wise, so she's quick to retort.

"Who's, Harry's?"

"Who says he's the one doing the dicking," Uma shoots back breezily and Audrey feels like she's choking on her own useless tongue in her attempt to…well, words want to leave, but her brain has short-circuited with the unusual imagery Uma's now planted in her brain.

Auradon has afforded them luxuries that clearly the Isle of the Lost could not, but there were some freedoms that one didn't talk about outside certain spaces. It wasn't like Audrey hasn't heard of _that_ before – and she really really hates Uma for putting it in her head because now she won't be able to look at Harry without turning red – but it isn't as common in Auradon as it would be in more…progressive places. Uma grins, unrepentant, as she adds, "Though, I will say that those satin sheets you gave me do have a bitch sleepin' good." At that, because for that Audrey can actually respond, Audrey scowls.

"I didn't give you anything." She insists. "You stole them."

"Gave, stole – same difference." Uma says this with a nonchalant wave of her hand that has Audrey huffing. Uma watches her with dark, probing eyes and consideration twisted in her round, full lips. The awareness in her gaze makes Audey's skin prickle in discomfort. "Why's it feelin' like all that bling's just weighing you down?"

_Because it is_, Audrey wants to tell her; she's literally a second from saying it aloud. But Audrey cannot allow herself to utter the words at all because it's just downright pathetic, isn't it? Here she is, every inch of her person ensconced in wealth and privilege while people like Uma and Harry and Celia all are only just getting a taste of it. This is Audrey's life – the very thing she'd toss around in her introductions to people because she's always felt the pressing need to make sure she was known in a crowded room – and she wants to snatch it all of her person. She wants to tear off the earrings and the tiara and the gown she'd been half in love with when she'd first seen it. She wants them all off and away because wearing them does not at all fill the pit in her stomach nor make her guilt go away and she just wants it all to –

_Stop_, she reminds herself, wide lips pressed into a thin line of resolution, deep-set brown eyes trained on Jane laughing away with a visiting Lonnie, Carlos, Jay and Gil.

After a few moments, Audrey cuts her eyes over at Uma who's still watching her, a carefully plucked, thick eyebrow raised as if daring her to prove Uma wrong. Audrey wants to, she really does, but even she doesn't believe herself when she says, "It's not…" She doesn't have to look at Uma to note the disbelief. Look she does, however, and then she's uncomfortably averting her eyes. "It's not…I just…" She wants to growl in frustration, to demand that Uma just drop it. She shakes her head, though. "You wouldn't understand."

"Wouldn't understand what? Being mad someone else has everything you know you deserve?" Uma asks and Audrey hates herself for it, but her gaze immediately flits to Ben and Mal, who stand wrapped up in each other on the balcony.

Audrey doesn't want Ben. She realized it while she was still Queen of Mean, fingers ghosting up his arm to his shoulder and to his head to swipe his ridiculously long fringe out of his face. She had anticipated something, an itch, a pull from deep within, a want. But she had felt nothing. Her first thought had been that the Queen of Mean couldn't afford to feel anything past self-righteous rage and contempt, but even now whatever jealousy she felt specifically about him no longer exists. She doesn't want him and it's been the only relief her mind has been able to give her.

There _is_ a jealousy there, however. She hates it and wishes that it would go away, but it is there – ugly and so disgusting that it makes her lick at the cake-batter-flavored gloss on her lower lip to dampen the sour taste on her tongue. Audrey doesn't want him, but wanting _that_ is not truly as inconceivable as she'd like to believe. If there is one thing that Aurora has pressed upon her in her rare and meager lessons, it is that true love can heal all and Audrey wants it. She wants the warm, fuzzy goodness etched on Mal's face and the all encompassing feelings of triumph and wholeness she sees shining in Ben's eyes. She wants the healing and the peace, the breathlessness and the gazes that do not need words. She wants the bone-deep adoration that maybe can fill her with heat where she feels so cold and bereft inside. She wants it so very much. No, she _craves_ it – throat dry, lips cracked, and stomach trying so hard to cave in on itself it nearly aches with the effort to not curl up into a ball and weep.

But Audrey has wanted what she's thought herself deserving of only to be reminded that she is not. She is not deserving of anything, not a crown, not a smile – of anything short of running away from a tourney field where someone else is having love declared to them, while she remains as forgotten as all the many lessons her Grammy has instilled in her to avoid such a situation.

"Or feeling like the villainous footnote in someone else's happy ever after?" Uma questions and Audrey sees Ben glance her way, so she flits her gaze over to a knowing Uma, a frown pulling at her lips. There is a look of understanding that passes between the two girls in that moment and Audrey is reminded why she does like Uma. Because they both _understand_ and that's a lot more than she's gotten from everyone else around her.

"You know I hate you, right?" Audrey posits just because she can and Uma throws her head back on a laugh, flipping her long braids over her shoulder as she casts a playfully teasing look Audrey's way that's far warmer than Audrey feels she deserves.

"Bitch, you love me," Uma exclaims. "Again, best thing that's ever happened to you, pinkie."

"In your dreams."

Audrey does not look back at either Ben or Mal until some time passes. Evie has plopped herself atop a table – despite all of Audrey's begging for her to show some more class – to gossip with them both and Chad's a tipsy mess, so she's found herself enough to be distracted by.

And it's nice.

Audrey still wants to leave. She still wants to curl up into a ball in her room and cry and eat ice cream, but she doesn't. She sits and she laughs because Uma makes her laugh, laughing so hard at one point that tears spring to her eyes and she has to avoid Grammy's snide stares because of her present company. She doesn't drink any of the proffered alcohol the others have snuck in, but she engages and she tries very hard to not think even though her brain is always going a mile a minute and it still feels like she's lost something, but at least there's enough chatter around her to drown it all out.

But then her gaze does move to Ben and Mal – not because she wants to; she's not purposefully seeking them out, mind – and then she sees _him_.

And then she's on her feet, even as Uma asks her what the deal is because she just needs to not be here, but over there.

Audrey doesn't know when she's moved. She doesn't know when she has placed one foot before the other; she's not even aware of the high-pitched sound that's escaped her mouth and surely going to get her a lecture from Grammy tomorrow. She doesn't know anything other than haughty hazel eyes and dark hair and then she's high in the air and can't bring herself to care how many see. She doesn't care about actions and impressions because the only impression she wants is his physical one on hers because it's been so long, and she's felt Ben and Robb in her heart since she was six years old and it feels like an eternity since she's had physical proof that that bond had once existed.

It's only a bit of a leap to get high enough on Robb, to wrap her arms around his neck and press herself as close to him as she can reasonably get. But then she's there and he's so very warm, like he's always been, and Audrey feels tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, so she shuts them and clings on, feeling Robb's arms tighten around her waist.

"Knew you missed me, Tiny," he teases lowly and Audrey's cheeks are wet and she feels the sob hitching her breath, and she absolutely hates crying in public, but she can't seem to help herself. So, she holds him just a little bit tighter, feet kicked up as if to assure herself that he's not going to let her down. The _like some people_, going unspoken, though she wishes it went unthought. Though, given the firmness of the arms wrapped around her, Audrey doesn't think she'd be getting down anyway.

"Shut up," she replies and it's supposed to come out sharper, but it's more of a whimper and Robb doesn't question it. His arms just tighten reflexively around her and it should hurt – it probably does, but everything's been hurting for so long that even this one pinprick of what should be discomfort feels more like the sweetest pleasure than anything else – but she just feels herself melt into the embrace.

And the momentary silence that fills her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if this needed a trigger warning or what-have-you considering how dark Audrey's thoughts got briefly. All I know is my baby had a lot of feelings as I was writing and she's going to keep having them for awhile. Also, why did it take so long for Ben and Mal to consider that maybe Audrey deserved an apology? Like, I get it - we all have speculated that filming issues might have come up, which is why we had the third movie be about Audrey when this chronologically should have occurred before Mal decided that the pressures of being a princess were too much. But like...IC....why did they really think not apologizing or at least officially checking if everything was okay, was a good idea? And ok so maybe not Mal, in particular....but Ben? After knowing that he and Audrey have known each other since they were small...he didn't think she deserved a sit down? Like, at all?


	3. AUDREY II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The demons of Audrey's mind work hard, but Robb works harder....if scaling buildings late at night with Shake Shack is considered hard work nowadays.

Audrey cannot fall asleep easily anymore.

To be fair, Audrey has always had a complicated relationship with sleep. It is necessary and she knows how important deep sleep is to her overall health. Audrey has always aspired to eight hours of sleep every single night following a stringent nighttime skin routine and wrapping her hair. Whether it’s straightened or left in its natural state – as it has been for the last week – Audrey always makes sure to secure her hair, a satin bonnet atop her head that matches whichever sleepwear she happens to pull out for the evening.

At the same time, Aurora was placed in a deep sleep she almost never awoke from and even now, years after her true love kissed her back to the land of wakefulness, the older princess of Auroria does not always sleep well. Perhaps it is now hereditary and Audrey has inherited insomnia from her mother.

Perhaps it is simply a learned trait, too many nights filled with tiny feet following the sounds of silver spoons scraping against porcelain, of memories plagued by sharp points and unbearable aches, of darkness and loneliness and knowing that one should be awake but being unable to open one’s eyes no matter how many times one wishes they can. Of starry night skies and hot tea and soft humming from her mother’s throat that somehow always manages to lull Audrey to the very sleep she claims to not feel an ounce of until she finds her feet off the ground and her father’s arms around her six year old body as her parents return her to her bedroom.

(There aren’t many memories Audrey can honestly say that she shares with her mother, but she cherishes their nights, as infrequent as they always have been given Aurora’s pressing need to travel, to prove how alive she is.).

Nevertheless, it feels like one of those nights, so Audrey settles. She’s already luxuriated in a hot bath with her favorite oils and has rubbed her skin down with her favorite body cream. Her hair is freshly washed and conditioned to make up for the dye job she’s put it through, and she’s letting it air-dry the rest of the way after toweling it off, oiling it and applying moisturizing creams to preserve the curls she doesn’t always wear out, and now the ice-blond locks are twisted into one big French braid with the long end twirled and then pinned to the back of her head beneath her bonnet.

There’s a dainty cup on her nightstand, devoid of the lavender-chamomile tea Chip provided with two sleeping pills snuck into the napkin that still sit on the saucer, all courtesy of Ms. Potts. The drink sits warm and comforting in her belly, and Audrey knows that the pills will only finish the job of dragging her into the abyss. But there’s no peace or rest _there_.

_There_ is choked sobs and a thousand questions, there is wicked laughter and animated armor. There is Grammy’s disappointment and Celia’s screams, Ben’s bewilderment and regret-peppered pleasure at Mal’s horror. There is green everywhere and the sound of her name coming from someplace unseen, deep and unbidden, haunting and beckoning. And then there is cold sweat shocking her skin and there’s not enough oxygen for her lungs to take in, and Audrey’s chest is tight and absolutely _aching_.

If Audrey did not like sleep before, she positively _hates_ it now.

No one knows about her nights. In fact, Audrey’s sure that even if they did, there would be nothing stopping any of them from believing – and they wouldn’t say it, no, but they’d believe it; Audrey just _knows_ they would – that she deserves it. Audrey surely thinks that she does. So, she tells no one and she stays in her room, a thin cotton throw blanket thrown atop her legs as she sits atop her comforter, back propped against her pillows. Her diary sits across her lap, ballpoint pen held between slender fingers but neither words nor images can be produced tonight.

Audrey thinks that it’s just her luck.

She thinks about how pathetic the Audrey from before would have seen this as, how far one who was once surrounded by admiration and adoration can sink in the blink of an eye. Then again, as Audrey finds herself pondering, the girl before must not have been so far removed being from pathetic herself, given her inability keep a boy she lost so easily, given how simply she’d managed to slip beneath the social radar when she’d once thought herself on top of the world.

A _tap-tap-ta-tap-tap_ raps against the frosted glass of her bay window and Audrey startles, blinking twice before peering over. A pale hand waves a few times and Audrey has had this scenario play out enough times for her throat to constrict with the familiarity of it all. A small smile touches her lips. Then she’s discarding the blanket and skipping over to the window.

As an afterthought, she snatches up the lacy, satin-trimmed peignoir that matches her nightgown, fastening the ties so that it fully covers the delicate silk she’d thrown on after her birth. She unlatches the lock on the window thereafter and pulls two of the wide windows open, feigning as unimpressed as she can despite her true elation.

“You do know that there’s a door that normal people use, right?” She asks. Robb grins cheekily at her, holding himself up by the brick fixture in the side of the dorm building.

“Yeah, if they’re not trying to sneak this around,” he replies and shoves a lime-green-lined drawstring bag into her hands, and Audrey can’t help the disbelieving giggle that escapes her. She takes a few steps back to allow him to climb on in. “I’m bold, but even I’m not bold enough to look Mama Potts in the eye with somebody else’s burger in my mouth.”

Moments later, and they’ve spread a few spare thin blankets on top of her plush pink carpet – “because if you spill a drop of that mess on my floor, I’ll make you lick it up and get me a new one! Don’t think that I won’t, _Robert_!” – and the food is laid out between them. Robb is stretched out on his side seated across from her, and Audrey’s legs are neatly folded beneath her.

Audrey should find it in herself to resist, to remember that eating after nine is a horrible habit to cultivate. She’s chosen a very healthy lifestyle, she believes, and while there’s always room to indulge – and given her sweet tooth, it’d be unrealistic for her not to – she at least manages to space out her meals accordingly. But there’s hazelnut brown butter streusel-studded vanilla custard on her tongue, and Audrey eagerly munches on the citrus-marinated raspberries that dot her creamy dessert instead of letting guilt sour the mood. She neatly sucks every bit of the concoction off of her spoon, distastefully eyeing Robb and his chocolate abomination.

“I don’t see how you can eat that mess,” she declares and as a response, he scoops up a large chunk of the gunk and plops it into his mouth. Scrunching up her snub nose, Audrey frowns, “Gross.”

When Robb smiles, there is chocolate all over his teeth and the corners of his mouth are smeared in the stuff, and he looks so far from ‘princely’ that she can’t help but laugh.

“It’s actually not gross.” He declares and Audrey doesn’t doubt it. But still, it’s a wreck in a cup and he must have gotten it delivered to campus because Audrey doubts the concretes could have lasted the whole trip from the city and not become just a little bit melted, without magical assistance or at least a cold storage.

“Whatever you say. Just keep that abomination away from me,” she tells him, a warning in her gaze that Robb only grins even more at. “And for the love of God, can you actually learn some manners? I’ve seen toddlers eat better than you.”

Robb just chuckles and, like an idiot, flicks his tongue out to lick up the chocolate that stains his mouth. He fails, however, to see that all he’s done is push some of it further out on his face, thus out of reach of his tongue. Audrey’s nose wrinkles automatically in what she wishes was genuine disgust, but it fails to leave an impression when her lips are aching with restraint from trying not to smile. “Such a child,” she remarks even as she reaches for a napkin. Robb preens and leans forward.

“Thank you!” He sings.

“Spoiled,” she accuses him fondly. Audrey dabs at one side of Robb’s face, carefully ensuring that the skin is clean on one side before going to the other. She purposefully digs the napkin into a dimple when she feels that the look on Robb’s face is far too cheeky for its own good, chuckling when he feigns hurt as she moves to the other side of his face, hand gentler there.

Robb’s cheekbones are sharper now. They were always impressive, sitting high on his face. But the baby fat has all but melted away now in comparison to three years ago, leaving sharp edges on his face that he’d only been slowly growing into before. This close, Audrey can see the aquiline shape of his nose, the almost indiscernible bump along the bridge that distorts an otherwise perfect line, the faintest smattering of freckles he clearly has inherited from Rapunzel.

Audrey’s always known that Robb was handsome. Girls had giggled about it for years, always applauding her ability to still talk to him when so many of them have fallen into nervous jitters if he’s so much as glanced their way. _It’s just Robb_, she’d say, unaffected and unimpressed with so many people being overwhelmed by how attractive they find him. None of them had any idea how much it all inflated his ego.

Now, though, his fair skin has been kissed one time too many by the sun since he’s been gone, and the light tan is fetching against the chocolate of his thick hair. His hairstyle for the evening had been sleeker, wavy locks swept slightly upward and to the left, away from his high forehead. Now, the brown strands are back to normal, casually tousled even though Audrey knows he’s done it on purpose, with only the faintest hint of his natural waves in the way the medium length strands hang on either side of his face in layers, curling at the ends that graze the back of his neck.

The green in his hazel eyes stand out under her dimmed bedroom lights, the cinnamon-colored freckles one wouldn’t see unless up close more pronounced now that he’s under closer inspection, the pink of his lips startling against his tan – so much so that Audrey looks away, feeling uncomfortably on the spot and uncomfortably aware that there was no reason for her gaze to have lingered _that _low in the first place, her mouth suddenly dry.

Audrey has always known that Robb was handsome, but knowing and _knowing_ are two very different things. And now that she finds herself doing the latter, her cheeks feel entirely too warm and she cannot meet Robb’s eyes, only then recalling that she’s still wearing her bonnet. She never liked it when Ben saw her with it on this late at night and would always snatch it off, and toss it to some corner unseen if he came by for a late night visit. _But it’s just Robb_, her mind reminds her, Robb who has seen this all before and with whom she’s always sat this close before. So why is she suddenly so self-conscious, so _aware_ now when she’d once not had to be before, picking at the elastic band of her nighttime head garment?

“So….how much did you miss me?” Robb decides to ask. She wonders if he knows where her mind had gone, if he had an idea of her thoughts and decided to give her an out. It’s an appreciated gesture and Audrey forgets all about the momentary shock of nerves as she replies with a cheeky grin.

“Not nearly as much.” Robb shoots her one hell of a disbelieving look.

“Lies! You missed me! Your life was miserable without me.” He accuses and Audrey snorts, though she can’t exactly find the lie in his statement. She just can’t bring herself to confirm that, if only to maintain propriety…and not have to deal with that annoying triumphant gleam his eyes like to take up. “Weren’t those tears I detected earlier? And all for mwah!?” Audrey shakes her head quickly.

“There was something in my eye!”

“Bullshit!”

“Watch your mouth,” she admonishes him and Robb sends her the most unimpressed glare he probably could muster, making her giggle. “But seriously, Robbie, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she tells him and he snorts.

“Oh really?” At her answering “mmm mmm”, he adds, inquiringly, “Not even a little bit?”

“Sorry, I have a thing against adding to your already impressive ego.” Grinning, she adds before he can even get in another word, “And by impressive, I mean absolutely abhorrent.” Robb scoffs at that.

“Oh, that’s just mean. Also, pot meet kettle.” Audrey takes the paper napkin she’d balled up in her hand from cleaning off his face and throws it at him, only slightly disappointed that it floats in the air between them before brushing against the tip of his nose as it falls. It does land in his concrete, which he squawks over, so Audrey still preens in glee before his words register.

“Wait a minute – I am not _nearly_ as bad as you,” she proclaims. Robb snorts as he gets another spoonful of his custard and shoves it into his mouth. After two bites, he speaks again.

“Says the girl whose bathroom mirror nearly stretches out over _one side_ of the room,” he reminds her.

“Says the guy who’d spend almost every day _taking up space_ in front of said mirror in my bathroom,” she shoots back.

“Are we just gonna forget the part where you, again, had _a mirror take up one whole wall_ of your bathroom when you’re like, but so big?” Robb inquires.

“So? What were you always looking at, anyway? That one zit I can still see in the middle of your forehead after three years?” Audrey retorts and he winces, feigning absolute hurt, hand on his chest and all.

Audrey would feel bad if it wasn’t for the amusement that shone bright in his eyes, at the way he held his lips in order to keep his chuckle inside, the dimples on his cheeks pronounced in the sorry attempt to not convey his joy. It’s a look that Audrey’s seen all her life and it warms her all over, despite the creamy concrete that’s been finding a home in her belly.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re mean?” Robb asks.

“Believe it or not, I was rolling around Auradon as the Queen of Mean for a few days, does that count?” She replies.

There’s a few seconds of silence and Audrey almost thinks that it’s too soon, that she’ll feel the faint glimmer of guilt or maybe that Robb’s eyes will sharpen in admonition, but then there’s a giggle that slips past her lips. Then they are both laughing low and close together, and she doesn’t have time to think about feeling guilty at all. Not when Robb’s smile is wide and his laughter’s infectious, and she’s close enough to him that she’s had to set her own concrete down so as not to drop it on him, the chocolate of his frozen dessert lingering in the air between them.

Audrey has missed Robb, more than she really thinks she’s ready to admit tonight. And maybe some part of him knows it because his eyes do this weird soft thing when he catches her staring, gaze warm and Audrey’s breath hitches in her throat because when in the hell did Robb ever stare at her like _that_? She doesn’t even have the mental capacity to take a second to figure out what that is because Audrey is sitting up and her custard cup is back in her hands, and whatever _that_ was is forgotten when she sees Robb scoop of more of his custard, far too much chocolate in one cup for Audrey’s taste buds to continuously be assaulted by.

“That looks like a mess,” she tells him, making a face. Robb chuckles at her over his mouthful.

“It’s actually not.” Audrey believes him, but again, it’s far more chocolate than she’d ever be willing to order in one dessert, so she’s just going to leave him to it. However, still chewing, Robb scoops a little bit more of the frozen custard out of his cup and extends the spoon towards her, saying, “Here, try some.” Audrey immediately recoils.

“Robb, _no_.”

“Oh come on, Audie – !”

“ – I have told you about nicknaming me after a car – ”

“Just take a bite.”

“No,” she insists. “And if even a drop of this gets on me, I’m making you wash this_ by hand_, Robert!”

“Well, it won’t get on you if you just take a damn bite.”

“No!”

“Audrey!”

“Robb!”

“Ben.” It is announced in a timid, barely discernible voice. But it is jarring in its quiet delivery and Audrey feels her spine stiffen almost immediately.

Audrey can faintly recall that there had been a few knocks on the wood, but she’d been unable to acknowledge it because Robb decided to climb his super long body over the food to try to force-feed her the dumb frozen treat. He’s looming over her and there’s laughter frozen at the back of Audrey’s throat, but it won’t come out now with the way Ben peers at them, a smile on his lips that makes her feel uncomfortable for him. Ben lingers at the doorway, fidgeting and seeming unsure as to whether or not he wanted to flee while he was ahead, or actually close the door behind him.

Audrey flushes from the guilt that comes at the immediate thought that she’d rather he do the former.

“I, uh, just got your text,” he says a beat later and Audrey barely avoids his glance by turning and shoving the spoonful Robb precariously held into her mouth. Chocolate bursts onto her tongue in time with burnt sugar caramel and black sea salt, teeth chomping down on the buttery blondie bite that almost drowns in all of the chocolate. Robb takes a second to beam down at her triumphantly, which she rolls her eyes at, before sitting back and turning his attention to Ben.

“Finally!” He exclaims. “If you didn’t hurry up, I was gonna let her eat your fries.” One of Audrey’s hands fly to her mouth before she opens it to speak, careful as she tries to swallow the lump of ice cream that really doesn’t want to go down her throat.

“I would’ve,” she confirms and Ben’s chuckle is airy, tremulous as he steps further into the room, shutting the door behind him as he does so.

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” The accusation would’ve made her snicker before, a reaction it still manages to elicit from Robb. But Audrey can only smile weakly and she watches Ben wither because of it. She glimpses Robb only to find him watching them both, a peculiar look on his face that disappears only when he happens to smirk.

“If I recall correctly, didn’t queenie over here steal your McDonalds fries that one time when we were trying to have a movie night?” He asks. Ben brightens up almost immediately and he shoots her a playfully reminiscent glare.

“I didn’t steal them,” she says defensively, reaching for one of the containers of crinkle cut fries, unabashedly picking out the one that appears to have the most fries. “You ordered a large fry, ate half of them, and then you left them to get ice cream.” Ben squawked.

“I was going to dip them in my ice cream.” He explains. Audrey and Robb exchange a quick look before staring Ben directly in the eyes, twin expressions of disdain on their faces.

“Gross.”

“Don’t knock it til you try it.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

“Says the weirdo who’s eating a cup of chocolate with a side of blondie,” Audrey comments and pops a fry into her mouth. They’re only slightly cold now, but good anyway. The crunch gives way only just the right amount, and the salt is poignant on her tongue after all of the sugar.

“The point is that you _tasted_ that there _was_ a blondie in it,” Robb replies and Ben snorts, crossing his legs underneath him as he sits before their spread.

“Just barely, I bet.” Ben opines and Audrey’s smile is warmer when she turns to him, a mischievous glint exchanged between the two of them.

“You know what? Screw the both of you,” Robb declares. “Haters just gonna have to hate.” Audrey giggles and doesn’t hesitate to pass Ben one of the other containers of fries as he peers at their friend dubiously.

“Yeah, ok. Give me something to hate off first.”

Robb doesn’t say anything in response to that. He simply flips Ben the bird. Audrey has half the mind to scold him, but she’s too busy removing the horseradish based sauce that’s been spread on the top bun of her crisp-fried mushroom burger. Robb does it on purpose every time, despite knowing how much she dislikes the flavor and texture – not because he’s simply forgotten, but because he loves watching the scowl form on her face.

“Careful, Robb,” she does manage to say, picking up the burger she knows is more than likely his considering the bacon she’s spotted, taking off the top bun, and spreading the sauce she’d wiped on a napkin onto his bun. Robb makes a disapproving sound, but Audrey pays him no mind, “Ben’s a king now. Any sign of disrespect from one of us foreigners is a declaration of war now.” Ben scoffs while Robb smirks.

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?” Audrey doesn’t know if she’s supposed to answer, but there’s something too casual about the way he delivers the supposition, and the flash in his eyes when he finally glances Ben’s way says it all. “Even though we all know Corona would crush Auradon in a heartbeat.”

“Big words when Auradon’s got literally every other magical artifact in history at our disposal,” Ben replies smartly.

“Yeah, and how many times has that thing been broken into? Ten? Five times?”

“Robb,” Audrey hisses and both boys stop their showdown, wincing before casting her apologetic looks. But Audrey only rolls her eyes good-naturedly, finding it too easy to enjoy a bite of her crunchy burger, the melted cheese on the inside on the right side of warm, stretching out when she pulls back.

Audrey has barely managed to get one swallow in when Robb maturely decides to add, “Corona would totally win,” and she chokes on a laugh at Ben’s indignant cry. So distracted by not trying to spit her food out, she doesn’t even find it in her to flinch when she feels a hand gently clap at her back.

“You wish,” Ben insists.

“Oh, I know.”

“Children.” It takes her a few minutes to get the word out as she’s still trying to chew, but when Audrey sits straight again – and it was Ben’s hand, she realizes, and she’s surprised by how unbothered she is by the knowledge – she’s glaring directly at both boys. “I’m friends with children.”

“And you love us,” Robb finishes for her.

Audrey can’t even find it in herself to argue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo….what do you guys think of the trio?? I felt like I was dragging on and on as we got to the end of the chapter and I didn't wanna bore y'all with their chatter. Am I boring any of y'all? Lemme know in the comments <3


	4. MAL I and UMA I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mal thinks it's all just precious. Uma is just thinking. Now, whether that's a good idea or not is still unseen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as a warning - this is a long chapter! It got away from me, but if you've managed to stick around for the last three chapters, hopefully this doesn't scare you off lol. Do y'all mind me putting certain POVs in the same chapter?

**Mal I**

Every morning, when Mal finds herself waking up in Ben’s bed instead of her own, there’s an entire host of speeches from Adam and Belle in the back of her mind that she knows she should probably be trying to remember. Something about proprietary, and waiting until they’re married, and not wanting to be caught in precarious positions…things of that nature. But then, usually, she finds herself wrapped up in Ben’s sheets – wrapped up in Ben – and honestly, her future father and mother-in-law are distant memories.

This is the first time she’s woken up alone in a very long time.

Sometimes, Ben works himself to exhaustion and he can either be found slumped in his chancery, head atop a stack of paperwork, or even in the sitting room attached to his bedroom, legs kicked up on one of the sofas from when he had shifted to sit more comfortably, papers scattered on the floor and a book on his lap with his head lolled against the back of the sofa, neck bent at what Mal knows is an uncomfortable position.

Belle has ranted and raged about how much Ben has thrown himself into being a better king, and Mal knows for a fact that the older woman is two seconds from telling her son-king that he’s grounded, but Ben can be stubborn when he wants to be. So, even though she occasionally does try to get him away from all the business he’d drown himself in during the day, she is starting to get used to going to bed alone. She just usually knows that he’ll come in later, if he remembers to come at all.

Most nights he does, and Mal is usually asleep by then, curled up on his side with her nose catching his scent from his pillow. He’ll crawl into bed after her, pushing her over just enough so that he has space on the massive bed, and then he’ll mold his chest to her back, one arm tucked beneath her head where she’ll snuggle into his hold without realizing it, and the other arm draped over her waist firmly. Mal likes it best when he does that, when she awakens to find them intertwined like that. Mal really likes it when she’s at least partially awake when he climbs in after her because then, she can shove him until he’s on his back and crawl on top of him and really have their bodies twined together.

(Mal’s pretty sure Uma is the only one who knows that Ben is no longer a virgin. Everyone else is just so sure that he still is, as if they _need_ him to be, and Mal just doesn’t have the heart yet to break theirs.)

But Ben did not come to bed last night. Mal’s not concerned, not really. She knows exactly where she saw him off at and if he has not returned from there, it’s more than likely that that is his current location. However, that doesn’t mean she’s not just a little displeased. Mal is spoiled now; she likes her morning kisses, even though she turns redder than a tomato when Jay and Carlos make fun of her.

“Go,” she had said, shaking her head fondly at the eagerness that had shone in Ben’s eyes after he had read Robb’s text. The prince of Corona had disappeared at some point in the night, after they had all left the ballroom earlier than the party had ended, and Ben had been trying to invite him to hang out outside the cottage with the rest of them. They weren’t doing anything; they argued over what movie everyone was willing to watch – _Nightmare on Elm Street_ won, even though Mal thought Harry screamed like a bitch after talking so brave – and trying to sober Chad up after the prince had given a drunk striptease in the middle of the ballroom.

(Mal had been absolutely horrified at the sight, but she couldn’t lie and say she hadn’t been two seconds from laughing her ass off. Ben didn’t help, either.)

(Audrey had been invited. In fact, she had been extended the first invitation, but she’d declined. She always declined, now that Mal thought about it.)

Only a chime later and Robb had text Ben that he had gotten their usual and was at their usual spot – Audrey’s bedroom, which is surprising considering Audrey has never struck Mal as willing to have anyone in her bedroom at any point of the night once she’s turned in, but Mal doesn’t know Audrey all that well yet so what does she really know? – and Mal knew Ben was going to go long before he turned those summer sky eyes her way.

“You deserve to spend time with both of your best friends,” she had told him.

Ben had paused then, a cloud passing over his face so quickly Mal almost doesn’t catch it, and then a small smile touches his lips. Then he’s pressing a kiss to her forehead, firm and sweet and Mal feels like he might as well have kissed her mouth with the way her toes curled, and then he’s running off, and she’s just watching him, wondering how long it’s going to take before he has to confront how off kilter he’s thrown whenever she mentions Audrey.

_“Ben?”_

_“Hmm?” He’s not looking at her. Ben is looking over some proposals on the new housing initiative they’re trying to implement considering the influx of VKs who have decided to officially move over to Auradon. There are still a few stragglers, stubborn parent-villains who refuse to branch out into the realm of forgiveness and make the big move despite knowing that the best of the best resources were here, and not on the Isle. _

_(Maleficent is not there. She is…well, Mal doesn’t know exactly where her mother has gone. She just hopes that she’s not causing any trouble wherever her wings have decided to take her. Mal does not need the headache.) _

_“Why didn’t you ever tell me about Audrey?” Mal asks. She is sprawled out on the sofa facing the one Ben is seated on, milky white legs draped over one of the sofa arms as her back is laid out on the cushions, violet strands fanned out on the blue twill cotton beneath her head. _

_Mal watches as Ben freezes for a few seconds, pen poised as if to write but unable to due to some unseen force, and then his gaze flits up to meet hers. She catches the tail end of something sad in his eyes, something that looks a lot like guilt and it stabs her, but then he’s shrugging it all away like she didn’t see it. _

_“Tell you what?” _

_“I don’t know, the fact that you two were friends?” Ben snorts humorlessly. _

_“Of course, we were friends, Mal. We…we still are,” he says. Mal doesn’t point out that he doesn’t sound so sure about that. “I wouldn’t date someone if we weren’t friends.” Mal scrunches up her face in thought. _

_“Well…technically…_we_ weren’t really friends before we dated,” she points out and the room seems to drop a temperature or two, or maybe she’s being dramatic. Mal doesn’t know. What she does know is that she and Ben don’t always talk about the how when it comes to their relationship. _

_(Mal knows that she doesn’t talk about it because she doesn’t want to remember any of that. To remember how she got with Ben is to remember a little purple-haired girl who just wanted her mother to like her – to love her and be proud of her – to remember how far she’d been willing to go to achieve that goal, regardless of who she had to hurt along the way.)_

_(Mal knows that _that _Mal wouldn’t have cared if even Evie, Jay or Carlos had been one of the people she had to hurt to gain her mother’s approval. Mal had never liked that Mal; she doesn’t like her now.) _

_Ben winces at her bluntness and Mal’s pouty mouth falls open to apologize, but then he’s staring at her, almost imploringly, as he says, “We’re…we’re different, though.” _

_“I know.”_

_And Mal does know. She knows that they are true love, though - if she's being completely honest - she loves Ben beyond the measure of fate and eventualities and magic. Mal loves Ben, not just who he was meant to be for her; that part's just a bonus. She loves _him._ Naturally, she loves how forgiving he is and how patient he has been with her. Mal knows that she’s flawed and she’s still learning. She can be selfish and indecisive, impulsive and secretive. She likes approval and being comfortable, and once she has it she can be near incapable of making the decision she knows is right in her heart if she means she has to relinquish the comforts she’s been provided. She’s still liable to make mistakes – big mistakes – but Ben never hates her for it. But she loves him for more than what he does for her. _

_Mal loves that Ben drools just a little in his sleep, even though he swears up and down that he does not despite the fact that there is no other reason for the spot of wetness at the corner of his mouth that she finds when she wakes before him. Mal loves that the one food he hates sharing – ever – is French toast which he’ll slather in strawberry cream cheese, and that he takes two nights out of the week to have dinner with his parents, and that he never forgets to pay his respects to his paternal grandparents’ graves, despite the fact that Adam has never talked about his parents and what happened to them. Mal loves how much Ben cares about the VKs, even the ones he hasn’t personally met yet, and she loves how much he’s trying to pretend like her father doesn’t frighten him even though there’s not many people alive who can honestly say that Hades does not frighten them – without them being engaged to his daughter._

_Mal loves Ben and she loves him so very much, so much more than she thinks a person should be capable of loving another person. Sometimes, Mal fears she loves him too much, that her chest will burst with how full of love her heart is for him. She still doesn’t know how she’s going to manage being his queen one day – his wife, even – but someone would have to pry this engagement ring off her cold dead finger before she’d ever take back saying yes. _

_“I know, I just…” Mal pauses, sitting up and turning her body to face Ben as best as she could with her legs still spread out on the couch. Luckily, they are alone and it’s still early in the morning; no one has made it to the dining hall for breakfast, so Mal can walk around Ben’s bedroom in nothing but a pair of panties and one of the shirts she’s stolen from him. “I never would have known that the two of you were friends until I read her diary.” Ben peers at her in shock. _

_“You read her diary?” Mal shifts uncomfortably.  
_

_“Only once,” she swears and Ben gapes at her._

_“She’s going to kill you.”_

_“Ben, focus.”_

_“Well, she is.”_

_“Ben!” She cries and it is only then that her fiancé stops, hands up in surrender even though she knows all he’s trying to think about is if Audrey is really going to kill her or not. Mal sighs and says, “Okay, so maybe I might have overstepped my boundaries a little…”_

_“A little?”_

_“…but we were just trying to figure out why or how Audrey went dark side, and we thought the best place to look for clues would be her bedroom. I told you what we were doing,” she reminds him. Mal waits a second, giving Ben a chance to say something, but he does not, so she continues. “And in all honestly, I wouldn’t have known that the two of you had ever been friends until I read that in her diary.” _

_“Why does this matter to you?” Ben asks. He’s not pretending to look at the paperwork strewn all over the coffee table and the pen has been set down, lending her his full attention. Mal doesn’t know how to feel about that, especially not when she notes the defensiveness in his stance. _

_“I don’t know, maybe because we’re all trying to get to know each other better and be better than we were before…and…” Mal hesitates, huffing when Ben gives her an imploring, almost impatient look. He doesn’t want to have this conversation and she doesn’t either, but she feels as thought they should because if they don’t have it now, they never will. “…and, I don’t know, I just didn’t…get those vibes from you.” Ben tilts his head curiously. _

_“And what vibe did you get?” He ponders. _

_Mal clucks her tongue on reflex as she averts her gaze, trying really hard to not say the wrong thing. She remembers Audrey’s frostiness and sarcasm, and biting back, of course. She also remembers the way Audrey had eyed the space between herself and Ben, how the other girl had draped his arm over her shoulder and dared Mal to say a word. She hadn’t, at the time, but Mal had tauntingly thought it looked pretty pathetic. _And then what did you do_, her mind pressed. Mal didn’t want to answer that. _

_“Umm…distant?” _

_No matter what she offered, Mal knew that Ben was going to be upset and the second the word slips past her lips, she knows that he does not like it. Ben’s face twists up with displeasure and Mal winces, moving into a fully seated position with her feet on the floor as Ben stares at her incredulously. _

_“We weren’t…we…” He cannot say the word and he cannot think of a new one, Mal realizes after it takes him too long to finish the sentence. And the very act of being unable to finish leaves Ben befuddled and clearly uncomfortable because when he eventually speaks up, and this is a rarity for Ben dislikes addressing her with this tone, he sounds testy. “There’s pictures of her all over my room, Mal.”_

_“Yeah, pictures with stories you’ve never told me,” Mal states. “You’ve told me so many stories of Robb and only two have included Audrey, and those were literally just mentions.” Ben sighs deeply and Mal almost wishes she had left it alone, that she had allowed them this quiet, peaceful time that they could only share in the comforts of his bedroom – _their _bedroom, even if Belle wants to believe otherwise. “I’m not bringing this up to start a fight.”_

_“Then why are you bring it up?”_

_“Because…because I see you,” Mal explains and Ben’s brow furrows ever so slightly, and she wants nothing more than to smooth the place between his eyebrows with a kiss. But Mal wants Ben to be able to work through his mess like he wants her to work through her own, so she’s following his example (and the examples everyone else have left for her to use.) _

_Communication. _

_“We’ve all been trying really hard with Audrey to make sure that she feels included and that she knows that she’s not forgotten, but I see the way that you look when she doesn’t open up for you like she does with Uma or Jane,” Mal tells him, watching for Ben’s reaction. He does not fail to give her something. Ben deflates, almost immediately, and Mal’s heart aches for him. “I know you don’t want me to, but I see it. I see it hurts your feelings when she doesn’t sit with you unless someone else is around and I know for a fact that it hurt when she threw that picture of the two of you out. Most exes – Harry and I included – don’t always try to keep memorabilia of said exes once the relationship is over, but Ben…” _

_Mal waves her hand over his trophy case and then over to the bookshelf. Audrey isn’t all over the bedroom, not at all, but in this sitting room, there’s a miniature her and Ben with Robb throwing up bunny ears behind both of their heads. There is an Audrey that is only slightly younger looking than she is now on Robb’s back, luscious lips stretched wide in a smile Mal had not known her even capable of. And if Mal looks back at the childhood photo album Belle keeps here for the sake of embarrassing Ben – even if she declares that that’s not the reason – she knows she’ll see even more._

_“With everything that’s happened, I know you care about everyone and making sure that we’re all settling, and that we’re all happy, but I just…you guys were so distant after everything, I guess I never realized how much you cared…until…now.”_

_ It sounds bad. In fact, it sounds absolutely horrible and Mal wishes she had sat with Evie to go over how she should bring the Audrey topic up. But now Mal has brought it up and there’s no taking it back; the window of opportunity has closed and now she’s stuck with this, and she has to see it through. Ben doesn’t respond for a few beats and Mal’s heart is racing in her chest. It hasn’t stopped racing since she posed her initial, impulsive question. Eventually, though, Ben does answer and his words come out slowly, as if he needs her to believe them as the fact that they are just as much as he needs to know that they are fact. _

_“Of course, I care about Audrey.” Mal immediately rises and moves around the coffee table to get to him, dropping beside him on the sofa and taking his hands into her own. _

_“Of course, you do,” she says immediately, trying to reassure him of her unwavering belief. Because Mal does believe in Ben and she believes he has good intentions always. She lets him stare at her face, as if he is waiting for her to reveal a deception of some sort, like she really doesn’t think that he cares and is only humoring him. But Mal does believe and she meets his stare head on. Satisfied, Ben gives her hands a light squeeze. Then Mal’s mouth is moving before she can stop. “But does Audrey know that?”_

_“She should. I-I told her I did. And I told her that if she ever needed to talk from now on, she can come to me. For anything,” Ben tells her. He’s so earnest about it too, like he’s talking to Audrey himself. But Mal knows that Audrey avoids Ben if she can help it, only approaching him head-on when she’s trying to help with the development of one of their newest programs. He turns to Mal pleading eyes, “She should know that, right?” Mal’s smile is soft, apologetic but probing. _

_“I’m pretty sure she knows that as a guest of a country she’s fond of, of course its king is going to want to be open to each and every one of his subjects, both foreign and local,” she replies gently. “But does she know that _you_ care?”_

_Because there is a big difference. A ruler can care about their subjects. They can want what’s best for them and implement whatever plans they see fit for maximum relief efforts, in order to assure their people’s satisfactions. They can tell their people that they care and try their hardest to keep the lines of communication open, to keep themselves open and attainable in such a way that their people will never have to fear that they are simply subjugated by a power that requires their submission, but never appreciates it. _

_But a ruler is also a person and people need to know that individually, they matter to someone. It is why Mal was willing to get the scepter for her mother, despite becoming increasingly hesitant about it. Auradon, for the most part, had been treating her good, but she knew that what mattered the most was mattering to her mother – the one person she should have mattered to. People need to know that they matter – not just as a subject, or classmate, or fellow politician whose goals are in line with another’s, but as an individual – as someone special. _

_“Of course, she knows that,” Ben repeats, but his voice wavers, becomes thin on that last word and Mal wants nothing more than to bring him into her arms and keep him close because Ben looks hurt. He looks confused, lost, and she hates seeing that look on his face. He peers at Mal helplessly, as if he hadn’t even considered that Audrey wouldn’t know that she was special to him. But they’ve spent two years thinking Audrey saw the past as water under the bridge and they had been wrong. _So wrong_, Mal thinks. “Right?” Ben asks, seemingly hoping that Mal has the right answer. _

_Mal doesn’t think she has the right to answer at all. _

Mal doesn’t rush through her morning routine. She showers, brushes her teeth, and then she finds an outfit that she likes and that she know will at least satisfy Evie enough that the blue-haired fashionista won’t march her straight back to her bedroom, or worse, to Evie’s workroom where she’s probably already had an outfit waiting and just needed an excuse to get Mal naked. Unless Evie picked the ensemble out herself in its entirety – complete with ankle-breaking heels Mal does not feel in the mood for after acquiescing to the bluenette’s demands last night – she’s never going to be completely happy.

But the dark denim skinny jeans are fetching when paired with the loose-fitted, blue-violet linen blouse she picks out, Mal’s pale, creamy shoulders bare and visible with Mal’s hair thrown up into a messy bun she only accessorizes with a silver clip. After slipping into some ballet slippers, Mal retrieves her phone and checks it one more time, hoping Ben will have text her to say that he’s already in the dining hall or on his way to shower and change.

There is nothing of the sort, however, so Mal heads out to explore on her own. She knows the way to Audrey’s room despite only having been inside it twice in the two years that she has known her. She doesn’t need help getting there, though, despite the unfamiliarity of the path. The two times before that she’d

In the beginning, Mal had disliked Audrey the most, not because of anything in particular she had done, but because Mal’s nose was too sensitive and – as if adding insult to injury – Audrey’s perfect person just had to have a sickeningly perfect scent to match. It is that very scent now that leads the way, inexorable in the way that it floods both Mal’s nostrils and her mouth. Audrey smells the way that summer feels, like sunshine and warmth and a sticky-sweet tang that almost makes your lips pucker, like fresh cut lemons floating in a warm breeze, the sugary vanilla that follows cutting through the cheeriness that trails after the pink princess.

(There’s something else to Audrey’s scent now after her interaction with the scepter, something darker, more potent, a subtle spice that permeates the syrupy sweetness Mal had associated with her that refuses to go away.)

Before Mal realizes it, she’s at Audrey’s door where her scent is stronger. There’s also salt in the air, like fast food and the wrapping paper burgers usually are enclosed in before you take them out of the bag. Scrunching her nose up, and hating how much it picks up when she doesn’t want it to, Mal knocks.

No one answers.

“Audrey…you up yet?” Mal questions aloud. She hears people moving around in the other rooms and even sees a group of friends on the other end of the corridor heading towards the stairs, probably on their way to breakfast, but there’s not one bit of movement on the other side of the door she stands before. Weighing her options, Mal knocks two more times while grasping the doorknob, “Audrey, I don’t mean to bother you. I was just wondering if you knew where…”

Ben is still sleeping.

The doorknob does not falter when she turns it and when the door opens, the first thing Mal sees is Ben stretched out on the floor of Audrey’s bedroom, the jacket of his tux beneath his head despite the pillow right next to him and what Mal believes to be a spare throw blanket tossed over his waist. The fondest of smiles touches her lips before she takes in the fact that it is not just him on the floor. All three of them are on the floor, fast asleep – Audrey, Ben and Robb.

Robb is closest to the foot of Audrey’s bed, and he lies on his side, his feet towards Ben’s. In fact, one of his legs appears to be caught under Ben’s, probably a direct result of Ben stretching out onto his back in his sleep. Robb hadn’t changed either, but his jacket is nowhere to be seen and his bow tie is strewn over the side of Audrey’s bed. Audrey lies at an angle, mostly on her back with the body pillow that usually rests behind the mountain of pillows she keeps on her bed beneath her, one of her arms tucked beneath her head as she sleeps peacefully, a dusty pink bonnet atop her head.

Audrey’s body is slightly bent at an angle, as if she had been laying on her side at some point but then subtly moved onto her back, not fully committing to the movement in the lower half of her body, just adjusting until she managed to get comfortable enough with her back supported by the long pillow, legs tucked under a blanket. Robb’s head lays in the curved space Audrey’s body makes, almost on her thighs as if he had been laying his head on her lap at some point in the night before she shifted. Ben’s head is close to Audrey’s and as the rising sun’s light slowly begins to stream into the princess’ bedroom, Mal catches a glistening spot of moisture on Ben’s chin, but he seems ignorant to it because his mouth opens and closes a few times sleepily, and then he rolls over to face his friends.

Mal hides a light laugh behind her hand, not wanting to disturb them. But she does manage to pull her phone out, make sure that it’s silent, and then snaps a picture of the cute trio. A part of her thinks that she should wake them, if only to ensure that all three don’t miss out on breakfast. Then again, she thinks, it’s been three years and Ben works too hard. Audrey too.

They could rest a little bit longer.

* * *

**Uma I**

Uma had never had an omelet before coming to Auradon.

They’re not that complicated to make, now that she’s had it before and can say that she’s seen how it was made. She hadn’t been pressed or anything to try it, but Evie had gone on and on about the things because Uma had judged her for standing in such a long line for a measly egg sandwich that doesn’t even have any bread. After Evie had laughed her out (and Uma damn near tossed the whole plate on the floor just because she was a petty bitch and didn’t like being made fun of), the bluenette had cut a portion of hers off ever so neatly, and slid it onto Uma’s plate. Uma had avoided it for all of three seconds before tossing the piece into her mouth, not thinking much of it.

And then she could think of nothing _but_ an omelet.

Now, Uma has to fight herself to not get an omelet every single day. Ben says that it is alright, that they have two omelet stations for this very reason and that she can do whatever she wants in the morning. Which is a lie because if Uma was allowed to do whatever she wanted she’d be allowed to have a non-virgin mimosa, but Ben gives her the most long-suffering look the pretty boy can probably muster, so she shuts the hell up and sips on the strawberry mimosa Audrey turned her on to, opting to complain to the pink princess about her woes instead.

And decidedly _not_ getting an omelet every day.

(The _real_ reason they have two separate omelet stations is because there are people – and Uma really wants to call them weirdos, but apparently that’s mean or some shit like that, so she keeps her thoughts to herself even though her thoughts are the only facts this particular topic has – like Audrey and Jane who like egg whites instead of yolks.)

(That station is also meatless and Uma avoids it all costs.)

(Also, the real reason Uma isn’t getting an omelet today is because the line is extra long now that a lot of the VKs know that there’s an omelet line to get into and Uma loves them, but she doesn’t love them enough to wait that damn long.)

Uma isn’t getting an omelet, which sucks because her omelet days – which usually consist of extra cheddar cheese, green and red peppers, and ham – are usually the best days, so she’s settling for the bacon, egg and cheese frittata Chip had been raving about (and it’s legitimately because Chip is cute that she even considered it, but Audrey literally threatened to cut each and every one of Uma’s tentacles off if she so much as thinks about sinking her claws into him, so Uma’s settling for watching how easily he turns red when she talks to him even though she’s told Audrey she doesn’t scare her) and some fried potatoes. Each large round table is accessorized with a big basket of warm crescent and French rolls, accompanied by a container of butter, and a bowl of fresh cut fruit.

As always, Mal takes a table that has strawberries and she’s currently trying to pick out all of the strawberries out of the mixed fruit while distracting Evie with conversation, so Uma strolls right on over to them and purposefully slams her plate down onto the table, effectively startling both girls. They turn to her wide-eyed stares, and Uma uses the distraction as an excuse to grab the bowl from Mal before the violet-haired girl steals all of the strawberries.

“Evie, Dragonbreath,” she greets, spooning herself up some fruit and putting it on her plate. She smiles at Mal as she asks, “Where’s your better half?” Evie gives her an admonishing look and Mal’s returning smile is long-suffering.

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing.” Evie rolls her eyes.

“Really? First thing in the morning? I thought we all agreed we were going to try to be friends,” she reminds them, her lips painted in a deep, dark red that complements her light complexion.

“We are,” Uma tells her, using the fork left beside her plate setting to cut into her frittata. “Which is why I asked where her other half is since we all know he’s the only reason why any of us actually like her.” Evie gasps, as if she’s continuously shocked by how harsh Uma can be. Knowing how dramatic the fashionista can be, Uma almost believes Evie genuinely is; she can never really tell with that one. Mal’s smile just thins, cat-shaped jade eyes flashing.

“That is not true!” Evie insists.

“Oh, don’t worry, Evie,” Mal says, “I know. We all know Uma just loves being a comedian first thing in the morning.” Uma shrugs and pops her cheesy forkful into her mouth.

“Somebody has to compensate for how dry you and those scales are.”

“Uma!”

“That’s my name,” she replies breezily and winks at Evie. “Try not to wear it out, you’re not the only one who likes to scream it.” Mal chokes over a bite of a strawberry half, trying not to laugh as she shoots an accusatory yet amused glare her way. Evie’s mouth drops for a brief second before she’s giggling. Snickering, Uma glances over the girls’ shoulders and smirks, eyebrow wiggling at her present company as she adds, “Speaking of…”

“Uma!”

“Hey, boys.” She purrs.

Uma will be damned if she tells anyone this, especially Gil and Harry themselves, but she’d be lying if she says something doesn’t catch in her chest every time she sees their eager eyes and stupid smiles, a sort of breathlessness that would make a weaker bitch stutter. Uma’s not a weak bitch, far from it, but she’s had a couple of moments when she’s had to check herself before opening her mouth.

All it will take is Gil’s quick to please grin or the way Harry pushes her buttons just because he can, or how ready they are to drop any and everything just for her – because of their _loyalty_ – and Uma’ll be two seconds from collapsing into a frothy puddle of sea foam. _Pathetic_, her mother’s voice taunts in her mind, but there’s only so much energy Uma’s willing to give that when both boys hurry over to their table to sit on either side of her. Harry, in particular, leers when he sees all three girls, causing Uma’s eyes to narrow.

“Morning, ladies,” he greets all too eagerly, too much interest lighting up his ice blue eyes for Uma’s liking and she lets him know it with her glare. He pointedly pays her no attention, fixing his gaze on Evie who all but beams from the attention she knows is coming. “And you’re looking quite scrumptious this morning, Evie.”

She does. Uma’s not a hating ass bitch, so she’s capable of acknowledging that Evie does look really good in the relaxed silhouette of her strappy onyx romper set in satin that does very little to hide the curvy figure that wears it, the cowl neckline only serving to bring more attention to her ample bosom, though the chunky silver necklace that sits atop her chest definitely is giving the neckline a run for its money in that department.

What Uma is, is a possessive bitch and while Evie’s thanking him ever so kindly, twirling a few strands of her thick dark blue hair between her fingers and peering up at him with a spacey smile, Uma is rising and jacking Harry up by the scruff of his neck. He does easily and plops right into the seat on her left without much of a fuss. Gil has taken up her right. Before Harry can even think of saying anything further, Uma is hissing in his face, catching the tail end of his knowing smirk. _Little shit_, she thinks at him.

“What’s my name?” She demands. Harry beams.

“Uma,” he answers almost breathlessly, quickly, like all he wanted was the very reaction she gave him. Uma tightens her grip on the back of his neck and Harry melts almost instantly, lips still spread out stupidly and this soft look in his gaze that makes her inside do things.

“Didn’t you learn your lesson the last time?”

“Dunno,” Harry replies cheekily, “I’m always for a repeat.” Uma hears Gil snicker on her right and her mocha brown eyes flash with promise at Harry. His ass had been sore for nearly a day last time Uma had pulled out her strap, which was why he’d been on his best behavior for the last three days. Gil almost always behaved, but Uma wasn’t against getting her hands on him, too.

Their relationship wasn’t exactly common, she had realized after coming to Auradon. It wasn’t like the three of them have made out in public or anything, but their dynamics apparently were still a shock to the kids of Auradon Prep, like the idea of three people in a negotiated arrangement that was nothing short of love and loyalty was something unheard of off of the Island. _And we’re the ones who’ve been missing out_, she thinks not for the first time, ignoring the amused looks on Evie and Mal’s faces.

“Anyways, I actually wanted to know the first time,” she says. “Where’s His Royal Highness?” Mal smiles then, almost to herself and it makes Uma want to hurl.

“Still asleep.” Harry and Gil perk up interested. Uma gives an intrigued raise of an eyebrow.

“Oh, really? I’m almost impressed.” Mal rolls her eyes.

“Not in his bed. Sadly,” the future queen of Auradon replies, tacking on the last word as an afterthought she genuinely means and Uma knows she means it from the secretive smile Mal tosses her way afterwards. Chuckling, she listens as Mal explains, “He actually spent the night with Audrey and Robb. They were still asleep last I checked.” Evie perks up then.

“Awww, really! That’s so precious.”

“Huh,” is all Uma has to say.

Uma doesn’t really know this Robb guy yet. He only just got here and while for some, he’s an important figurehead and honestly a staple of Auradon Prep life despite how long he’s been gone, the guy’s still a stranger to Uma. A fine ass stranger, she has to admit. With all that being said, there had been two things that had struck her as interesting in the short time she’d managed to observe him.

One, Audrey adores him. If that very fact hadn’t occurred to Uma when the girl literally squealed her ever so proper head off and launched herself into his arms without a care in the world, then it had been the way Audrey stuck by his side for the rest of the evening until she had left the party. Audrey doesn’t follow people; people (and in particular, their eyes, whether in lust or love or distrust, Uma can’t always tell) follow her. And yet, the very girl Uma had seen lose herself every so often to the darkest recesses of her mind seemed to almost brighten from the inside out at the sight of this boy she’s heard people call Audrey’s best friend. Apparently, Audrey doesn’t have those, so the fact that there’s someone who possesses the title piques Uma’s interest.

(Apparently, Ben is _supposed _to share that title with Robb, but Uma’s not dumb. She’s seen the way Audrey looks at Ben and the way Ben looks at Audrey, and Uma knows enough to know that shit don’t add up too favorably for Ben.)

Two, Queen Leah had been the picture of disapproval from the second Audrey had appeared and Uma had inserted herself into the space at the girl’s side so they could talk about people. It was only made _worse_ when Robb had arrived. It was strange, now that Uma’s allowed herself to think about it. Robb was well-liked, that much was certain. He was also royalty. It should have endeared the old bat to him, but all she did was mentally bitch at Audrey from across the room even though her granddaughter only had eyes for the tall, athletic prince who gladly kept her on his arm. The why still remains unanswered, but Uma’s going to figure it out.

And three, and this is the one that nobody else seems to have picked up on because if they did, then she’d be able to see something in Mal’s face when she mentions the new guy who’s not exactly new. But no, Uma didn’t see any recognition in Mal’s eyes last night, so the only thing she has determined is that she’s the only one who knows that Ben isn’t happy. Well, technically he _is_ happy – Uma doesn’t think she’s ever seen him _not_ happy, and he’s thrilled as all fuck to have his best friend back. That much Uma knows she can’t take from him. At the same time, he’s not _too_ thrilled to have his best friend back…being best friends with the girl who is _also_ supposed to be his best friend.

_And his ex_, her brain adds, messy as always.

“Can’t forget that,” she finds herself thinking aloud and Mal immediately hones in on her voice, distractedly showing Evie and the boys the picture she had apparently taken earlier.

“What was that?” The violet-haired girl questions and Uma blinks once, twice.

“Oh, can’t wait to see that,” she says quickly, extending her hand. “The picture, obviously. Girl, what’d you thought I meant?” Mal stares at her for a beat too long. Uma’s not forgotten that Mal can hear better than most humans, but she’s not too keen on sharing how uncomfortable the girl’s fiancé seems to be when it comes to another girl, especially considering the girl happens to be his former flame.

Eventually, however, Mal does hand her the phone and Uma turns it so she can see it better and…well…

“Huh, she simply says.

“Aren’t they just adorable?” Evie coos. Gil pretends to barf in Uma’s ear and she tosses a grin over her shoulder at him while Harry laughs. Mal shakes her head amusedly.

“I know, right? I’m half tempted to post it online,” she admits. Both of Uma’s eyebrows raise in interest at the same time that Evie gasps.

“What? Mal, no!”

“Mal, yes,” Uma counters and Mal’s grin is just as mischievous as Uma’s. “Mal, it’ll be the most extraordinary thing you have ever done in life. Pinkie will flip her shit!” Evie shoots her a disapproving look.

“Mal, don’t listen to her.” Uma rolls her eyes and starts eating her frittata again, lips pulling into a smirk around her fork when Harry and Gil pipe up.

“Do it!”

“Definitely.”

Evie launches into a spiel about permission and respect and a bunch of other bullshit, but Uma tunes her out easily. She’s already given her opinion on the matter; she wants to see Audrey’s reaction because she now knows that the pink princess has a thing about herself in pictures and the angles in which they’re taken. Uma’s more interested in how _Ben_ will react to the posted picture, not because it doesn’t show him in a favorable light – Uma’s seen enough of social media to know that people will have a field day to see the smol king of Auradon _be_ smol – but because of how Audrey and Robb look in it.

Much like they look right now.

Ben, Audrey, and Robb walk into the dining hall with Ben leading, the other two side by side. The two boys are dressed as they were the night before, minus their jackets, and their shirts slightly wrinkled, the top buttons of Robb’s undone. Audrey’s appearance is as impeccable as always, and just like always, people’s heads immediately turn in her direction, but her animated attention is too centered on her present company to care about anyone else, a welcome change, all things considered.

What’s striking then isn’t the pretty, button-down romper that Audrey floats about in, the powder-blue – and Uma hates how pleased she is at not seeing pink all over for once, but_ fuck_ it feels like the girl was wearing that much pink _on purpose_, like she was trying to prove _something_ – ensemble, made of long sleeves and lace and mesh with satin trims set in hot pink – rather striking against the warm beige of Audrey’s complexion. Though, she’s pretty sure a few of Audrey’s classmates – and a few VKs, even though they’d deny it in a heartbeat for being so entranced by something so pure-looking – would beg to differ.

What’s striking is the way that Robb looks at Audrey floating about at his side, her head barely reaching the top of his shoulder and her smile stretched wide across her face as they both laugh over whatever it is that Ben has just said. Because Robb’s eyes are trained solely on Audrey and they’re soft – _so soft_ – that the look in them is so familiar. Uma just can’t put a finger on it.

His gaze lingers even when Audrey’s goes elsewhere, to the selection of foods in the buffet that Ben has lead them to, and Uma watches as Robb watches the pastel-streaked blonde head as it bobs in her morning greeting to the dining staff, watches as his bright eyes take in the voluminous mix of springy corkscrews and ringlets that make up her long hair, tracking the way her lips move, how _she_ moves and…_oh_.

Oh.

Uma knows that look; it is familiar to her because she’s seen it directed at herself, like when Harry’ll press her buttons, purposefully flirting with another person in front of her just to rouse her and get her to want to claim him then and there for everyone to see; she sees it in the way Gil takes a moment to stare directly at her as she’s ordering Harry to fuck him clean through the mattress, eyes glazed over and ever so grateful that she’s letting them do this, that she’s in charge – that she’s _existing_ – and _oh_.

“Huh,” is all she says, though she doubts it’ll be all she has to say on the matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, if you're ever trying to mentally picture Robb's character as I do with every single character I read about or interact with, think of Jacob Elordi's aesthetic in The Kissing Booth. Literally drool-worthy ;D Enjoy!! Don't forget to tell me what y'all think :3

**Author's Note:**

> A/N. Just as a little tidbit. I don't remember if they ever mentioned Rapunzel and Flynn/Eugene having any kids in the Descendants lore. They mentioned characters being on the Isle, but idk if a child was mentioned. But I've taken creative liberties cuz Audrey deserves a hottie.


End file.
